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Hands
I miss the contrast
of your warm hands
clasped around
my cold ones,
Iike the warmth of the sun
on a winter's day,
How my sorrows would ebb away
with your soothing fingertips,
as you traced every
nook and cranny
of my body,
I miss your callused hands
gently caressing my skin,
cupping my cheeks,
so painfully tender—
the softest touch
I've ever known,
I miss how your fingers
would enfold
between my own,
like we were meant
to never let go.
~L.Y
》°•○●♡●○•°《
YOU ARE READING
Dismantle me
PoetryStripped down to my very core, dismantled in the most blissful of ways, replaced my broken and ugly pieces with parts of you. I became a living being recreated for loving you.
